


Staying In

by elsewherewolf



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Domestic, Father/Son Incest, Hand Job, M/M, also it's kind of another epilogue to something not yet written, canon divergence - Chuck lives!, motorcycle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 02:10:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elsewherewolf/pseuds/elsewherewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck was thinking of going out.  However, seeing Herc's ass in those jeans, he changes his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Staying In

Herc can hear Chuck's voice from inside the house, getting gradually louder as he comes towards the garage door.

"Hey, are you listening? I said do you want to go out to-"

Herc looks around from the bike, wondering why Chuck stopped, and sees his son standing in the doorway, staring at him. "What?" How _Chuck_ makes him feel self-conscious is beyond him, but there it is. He stands up, picking a rag up off the saddle to wipe his hands. "Out where?"

"Uh, nothing. I mean, nowhere. Are those new jeans?"

Herc blinks, glancing down at himself. "Chuck, they're what I had on this morning. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You've been locked in here with that bike all morning, maybe?"

"Door's not locked," Herc points out, dropping the rag. "And she needs the work doing. If you were willing to help out, it would've gone a lot quicker, but-"

"Your ass looks amazing," Chuck blurts, stepping down into the garage. "And I missed you."

Even now, those words give Herc a pleasant little rush. He holds out his hand, gratified when Chuck comes closer, presses in and shivers when Herc curls his fingers into the back of Chuck's shirt, stroking. There's paint on his cheek, and spatters along his arms when he lifts them, loops them behind Herc's head. It still surprises Herc, how well he took to a hobby initially suggested as a therapy tool, but in the weeks and months since Chuck got out of hospital, there have been plenty of surprises. "How's it going in there?" 

Chuck stops gnawing softly at Herc's stubble to shrug. "Nearly done, I think."

"Good. I'm looking forward to seeing it."

"It's not that great, dad, okay? So don't... Don't expect too much. Anyway, how about the bike? When can we take her out?"

Herc pats the saddle, still holding onto Chuck's shirt, and smiles. "Weekend. Thought we could head for the coast, maybe stay out for dinner."

"Sounds good. Can I sit on her?"

"Sure, go ahead." Herc swallows, reluctant to let go of Chuck but stepping back. He's gotten better at giving his son the space he needs, and he thinks - ironically - it's probably because they're so much closer now. It's easier to occupy and move between every part of the whole picture.

Chuck swings his leg over the bike, settles into the saddle and Herc's heart just seems to lurch, and it's pride and arousal and love and the way Chuck looks at him and smiles like he knows exactly the effect he's having. 

"Looks good, son. But you're still riding bitch at the weekend." His voice wavers, and he swallows again, plucking at his shirt because it's hot and he's sweating and the sight of Chuck astride that beautiful machine is sending all his blood south. And then Chuck goes and finishes him, with a hand up into his hair and a persuasive pull down to his mouth. Chuck kisses like he does everything else these days; as though tomorrow might be a dream, as though yesterday is long gone and this is the first and the last kiss and dammit, it's going to _count_.

Or maybe Herc just reads too much into his son being a first rate kisser.

"We could order in tonight instead," Chuck whispers, into Herc's hairline. "Stay in bed, watch one of those old movies you love."

"Old? From the eighties, Chuck, not the stone age."

"Whatever." 

Herc feels Chuck grinning, and the hand in his hair moving down his neck and he shouldn't _want_ like this. Not as hard and as often as he does, and he tells himself he's making up for all the years they'll never have back but it's this, really. It's Chuck wanting him the same way, it's how they fit together, how they anticipate what's coming next; Chuck's hand slipping down, down to Herc's belt, and Herc leaning into him, biting at his lips until another kiss comes and sears his mouth.

"What do you think you're doing?" Herc asks, and Chuck stops for a single beat before he carries on, pushing his hand inside Herc's loosened jeans.

"Kinda think I'm giving you a hand job," Chuck replies, tilting his head just slightly so that Herc can kiss his throat, leave his mark behind.

"Good," Herc says, sucking in a breath and Chuck's skin when fingers close around his cock. 

"Only 'cause I can't figure out how we can fuck on this bike yet."

Herc groans, steadying himself with a hand tight on Chuck's hip, the other on part of the bike's frame. She's a sturdy beast of a machine, and he's not sure what he's looking forward to more - riding her with Chuck, or Chuck riding him on her. "Christ..."

"Dad, hey, look at me."

Herc looks straight up, his cheeks warm and heating further when he sees the way that Chuck's watching him. "What is it?"

"Nothing, I just want to see you when you... y'know."

"Oh. _Oh._ Chuck..."

There isn't much slick, so Chuck lets go for a second, spits in his palm and uses that and what's already leaking from Herc's cock to make things easier on them both. His fingers are a warm wrap, and now and then there's a pleasant pressure when he squeezes, twists his hand. Herc focuses on Chuck's eyes, the concentration and determination in them, and the slow dawning every time he glances up at Herc's face.

"You could just bend me over the saddle, that'd work," Chuck says suddenly, and the image that immediately comes to Herc's mind makes him shudder, grip tightening and shifting. Chuck's voice lowers, almost growling. "Fuck me dirty and hard."

Herc makes some unintelligible sound and has to force his eyes open when Chuck asks him again, and that's it. He's done for, coming too fast over Chuck's fist, his thigh. Chuck kisses him before he can take a breath, leaves him panting and slightly wild, aching for the press of Chuck's naked body against him. 

"Should've let me fuck you first," he murmurs, when he feels like he can speak again. "Just have to wait now."

Chuck strokes his cock one more time, sending pleasant little aftershocks crackling through his muscles and veins and making him moan. "You know you have some grey coming through in your beard?"

Herc blinks, leaning back to stare at his son. _Are you kidding me right now?_

"It's sexy. I mean..." Chuck grins, rubbing his thumb over the head of Herc's cock just to be fucking evil, it seems. "It really turns me on. How long d'you think?"

"Huh?" Surely Chuck doesn't expect him to _think_ right now? "Later. Jesus, Chuck, give an old man a break."

That raises a laugh, and Chuck kisses Herc and it's sweet and full of promise. "I am _so_ sorry that I can't get enough of you." He's grinning, nudging at Herc's chest. "C'mon, I need to get off and clean us up. You're a mess."

"Wonder whose fault that is? Fine. Fine, come on. You should-" Herc bites his lip, catching Chuck against him as he gets off the bike too quickly. "You have paint," he muses. "Shower?"

"Yeah, are you going to-"

"Blow you? I was thinking about it."

Chuck grins, smacking Herc's shoulder. "Don't be an ass, Dad."

"Thought you said you loved my ass."

"Hmm, and the rest. So, this weekend. You and me, the coast road, find a nice secluded beach and see if this bike can take a good, hard fuck?"

Herc swallows hard, still not used to hearing those words come out of his son's mouth. "It's a date."


End file.
